


no light above and there's no hope below

by fandomlee



Category: Good Omens
Genre: M/M, Mother-Son Relationship, Song fic, the song is home from beetlejuice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 09:21:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,792
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20580167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomlee/pseuds/fandomlee
Summary: crowley is feeling incredibly lost. he finds himself in a church, talking to a mother he isn't sure exists anymore.





	no light above and there's no hope below

**Author's Note:**

> hey guys! this is a song fic based off of the song "home" from beetlejuice the musical! it's great, you should definitely check it out!

in all his 6000 years, crowley never thought he’d find himself inside a church. 

well, except for one time, but that was to thwart nazis and save his angel. plus, he’d destroyed the church in the end, so the bad cancelled out the good, he thought.

but now, he found himself wanting to be in church- wanting the pain, reminding him exactly of who he was: an unforgivable demon. 

unforgivable. was he truly unforgivable? aziraphale didn’t seem to think so. 

aziraphale, his angel. crowley often found himself wondering if he’d known aziraphale before the fall. aziraphale felt like someone he’d known even before the Beginning, as if their souls were made of the same matter. 

burning feet carried him to a pew in the back, where he, for the first time in a very long time, began to pray.

crowley didn’t remember much before his fall. he couldn’t remember what his name was, what heaven was like, what God looked like. but he remembered loving Her. he can’t remember if She ever loved him back. most days, it was easier to think that She didn’t, that She had hated him from the Beginning. some days, however, crowley needed to pretend that She was as his angel described Her, a loving mother who had a plan for all of Her children, even the fallen ones. 

today was one of those days. 

“mama, i could use some help here, tired of talking to myself here...down in hell, you don't exist, so here i am in the abyss,” crowley prayed, his eyes closed as he tried to ignore the awful burning beginning to spread up his legs. he wasn’t sure how long a demon could survive in a church. he took a deep breath, opening his eyes and looking around for a moment. he wasn’t sure was he was expecting, a flash of bright light, maybe? he tried not to be disappointed, what did he expect? he was a demon after all.  
“are you really in this place? it's like the emptiness of space. i could search for all eternity, and never see your face,” the demon lamented, realizing how true his statement truly was. no matter how hard he tried, and he truly did try, crowley could never remember what She looked like. even when aziraphale tried to describe Her, it was impossible for him to picture Her. crowley realized, in horror, that tears had begun to form in his eyes. 

swallowing his pride, crowley pleaded, “help me out, i'm lost without you.” 

crowley stood up from the pew, looking around at the dark and empty cathedral. he found himself thinking about aziraphale, as he usually did. there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t think about the angel, even when he had slept for centuries each and every one of his dreams was about him. ever since aremgeddon’t, crowley had felt like he was falling all over again, like aziraphale was his source of gravity and he was tumbling at light speed down to the earth.

for thousands of years crowley had tiptoed around his feelings for aziraphale. but now, well, they were on their own side. thats what crowley had said, that night on the bench, wasn’t it? the night aziraphale grabbed his hand on the bus back to london- something which they hadn’t yet discussed.  
their own side. 

what side was crowley ever on? good, bad, was anything ever so black and white? crowley had never been able to make sense of any of his feelings, now more than ever, and to be honest- he was desperate. desperate to understand what he was feeling, why he was feeling it. maybe that was why he had decided to come to the church- desperation.

“standing, stuck on this impossible road- no idea which way to go! whichever path i choose i lose, you know! and i don’t know which way’s home!” crowley had never felt like he was truly good or truly evil. falling for asking questions- crowley didn’t believe that wanting answers meant he was made of pure evil. in fact, didn’t that make him good? wanting to know what was going to happen so he could make the best choice? 

“You always saw life as a game, but since You left, it sucks to play! i'm beaten up and bruised, confused by rules that alter every day- where to next?” walking up the aisle, his burning legs went numb, and he found that it was more bearable. was that Her? or was that just his physical body’s way of telling him he didn’t have much time left? 

crowley didn’t come to the church with the intention to spill the inner workings of his heart to a Mother who he wasn’t even sure was his anymore. still, standing in front of the empty church, he felt like the words were coming out of his mouth faster than he was able to think- as if his soul was finally ready to tell Her everything that needed to be said. 

“You left but i'm still standing! spinning on this infinite road, terrified of letting You go! no light above and there's no hope below- and i don't know which way's home!” 

home. where was crowley’s home? it certainly wasn’t heaven anymore, and he would never call hell anything remotely close to a home. his flat in mayfair...maybe? but still, it didn’t seem to fit the word- home. when he thought of that word, only aziraphale came to mind, but that was stupid, a home wasn’t a person, a home was somewhere that made you feel warm, and loved, and-

oh. 

oh.

how stupid he had been. 

aziraphale was his home. always had been, always will be. what did he do, now that he had this information? crowley felt terrified, more vulnerable than he had in years- even more so than when he came face to face with the devil himself. perhaps that was because when that had happened, he had had his angel, his home, next to him, giving him strength. now, he was alone- no one but his thoughts. and, crowley hoped in the deepest part of his heart, God. 

he needed to find aziraphale and tell him everything that he had been holding in his heart for all those years- all the feelings that were pouring out of him, feelings that he didn’t even know he was capable of feeling. they were overwhelming, and crowley suddenly became aware that the pain of holding his feelings in for even a second more would be more painful than standing on the holiest, most consecrated ground. 

but how did you express feelings you didn’t even know how to feel? 

crowley was terrified. 

“Ma, i've got my heart in my hand! speak to me and i'll understand- one little word to know i'm not alone! and show me the way back home! is there a way back home?” what happened if aziraphale didn’t reciprocate his feelings? what if the feelings that, to the demon, were so overwhelming, choking him, threatening to rip him apart at the seams, were simply fun and games to the angel? what would happen if crowley gave himself away only to have the angel give him back?

surely crowley wouldn’t survive that. it would be more painful than being doused with the holiest water. 

“the nothingness ahead of me…. is this the end You meant for me? every living minute, there's no home without him in it!” 

crowley remembered falling. he remembered what it felt like, to have his grace ripped from him. he could never forget the way it felt to have his wings burn off, to have everything he ever believed in gone in a moment.

but how he was feeling now? the torment of the back and forth? it was as if he was falling all over again. 

“i’m falling! quit stalling! Your angel is calling Your name! i've burned all my bridges, endgame!” 

he didn’t feel any pain anymore, crowley realized. no pain in his legs, no burning in his feet and chest. in fact- the pain in his chest was replaced by a different feeling- a lightness he hadn’t felt since-

since…?

crowley turned around. 

“Mama?” crowley asked softly, taking a step forward, towards the bright, blinding light in front of him. “Mom?” 

“raphael- crowley. my child,” God smiled softly, extending an arm out to crowley. 

“You came?” crowley asked, decidedly not caring about the fact that his voice sounded like a lost toddler. 

“i heard you.”

“i don’t- i didn’t think You took calls from demons,” crowley said, casting his eyes to the ground. 

“oh, my child. you are so much more than a demon,” She said. 

“You left me!” crowley shot back. “cast me out! if i’m more than a demon, why did you let that happen?” he cried.

“oh, crowley, i love you so, so much. casting you out was one of the hardest thing i’ve ever done. but surely you understand now, don’t you? i had to send you home.”

crowley was taken back. home. She sent him home. 

home, to aziraphale. 

“You sent me to him. to aziraphale,” crowley whispered. in response, she smiled. 

“i have to go now, crowley. i hope that one day, you find it within yourself to forgive me,” God said softly. 

“i forgive you, Mom, i-” crowley cried out, hopelessly as Her light began to fade. “i don't wanna forget You! i promise, i'm never gonna forget You!”

crowley ran down the aisle of the church, only one goal in mind. his fear, the pain, everything was gone. all the feelings he was terrified to let himself feel felt far away now, the only thing he could think about was aziraphale. 

angel. 

home. 

“i’m gonna go back home! aziraphale, it won’t be so bad! i'm messy but you’re all that i have- i'll make the best of being flesh and bone!”

turning back to look at the church, the place which he had once so detested, had become the place that he would always remember as the place that helped him find his home. 

“Mama, i'm going home! yeah, Mama, i'm going home!” 

crowley didn’t even bother with the bentley. no, instead, he found himself running straight to his home. or maybe he was flying. he would never be able to be sure.  
“Mama, i’m going home!” 

stopping in front of aziraphale’s shop, he didn’t feel any fear. instead, he felt only hope for the future he would share with aziraphale.  
with his angel.

home. 

pushing the door open, crowley let out one more prayer. this time, a prayer of thanks. a prayer of new beginnings. 

he stepped inside.

“angel, i'm coming home!”


End file.
